The Night of the White Shirts
by The Wild Wild Whovian
Summary: Our Heroes spent an interesting amount of time discussing their cases while casually changing their shirts in the varnish car. Considering how much trouble I have with a certain aspect of buttoning a shirt, I wonder if some scene like the ensuing ever happened…


"I tell you, Jim, this case has me mystified — absolutely mystified!" Artemus Gordon shrugged on a clean white shirt and did up the first few buttons. "Three — count 'em, three! — life-size statues of Abraham Lincoln — bronze statues, had to weigh over a ton apiece — and they vanish. Without a trace! Unaccountable. Simply unaccountable, Jim!"

"I know, Artie." His partner, James West, was pulling on a fresh white shirt himself. "President Grant is livid…"

"As well he might be," Artie interjected as he stalked across the parlor of the varnish car and dropped onto one of the two gold sofas.

"…and wants this cleared up yesterday, if not last week." Jim rapidly buttoned his shirt and tucked the tail of it into the waistband of his trim teal trousers.

"Yeah, but who could have done it all? And how? Statues, disappearing as if into thin air?" Artie continued buttoning up the front of his shirt.

"Colonel Vautrain could have done such a thing," Jim mused.

"True. But he's dead."

"Mm-hmm."

"Of course there's always Count Manzeppi; he's been known to pull off some rather arcane stunts."

Jim nodded. "Not to mention, Dr Loveless," he added.

"Yeah, the little wizard himself! If anyone could invent a way to… to make solid bronze vanish like… like, uh, like…" Artie's voice trailed off.

Jim turned a glance towards him. "Artie? Something wrong?"

"Ah…" Artie was for some reason frowning ferociously at his right wrist, the fingers of his left hand fumbling furiously at something there. "No, not… not exactly _wrong_ , really…" He fumbled some more, his scowl deepening.

Jim tipped his head, folded his arms, and leaned against the table. "Well then, what?"

"It's just that…" Artie gave a chuckle, but one with a curiously nervous edge to it. "Just… that… Aw, James, have you ever had one of those days when… when… you just can't seem to… _vuuussshh!"_ he ended with a growl as he slammed both hands down on the sofa cushions at either side of him.

Jim blinked and took a step forward. "Artie! What is it?"

"I… I can't seem to…" He was fumbled at his wrist again. "Can't seem to get this… oh! this danged _cuff_ to button up, that's all!"

Again Jim blinked, then made a tiny noise that sounded remarkably like _snerk_. "Ah," he said. "I see."

Artie glared at him.

An innocent smile spread across Jim's face. "So would you care for a bit of help with that pesky cuff button — little boy?"

Artie cocked a dangerous eyebrow at his partner, then smoothed away the glare from off his face. "Oh, no no no. No need, James my boy," he responded. "As you can see, I have at long last conquered the cuff button," and he held up his wrist in triumph. "However," Artie added genially, "it was a very kind offer, and I do thank you profusely — Mumsy dear."

For a long moment neither spoke. Then, breaking the silence, Artie added, "Now, where were we? Vautrain… Manzeppi… Ah, _Loveless!_ You really think the good doctor would be stealing bronzes of Lincoln?"

"I can't imagine why," Jim replied. "But then I can't imagine why _anyone_ would be stealing them. What would be the point? Why would…"

"Ah… Jim?" Artie interrupted.

"Yeah, Artie?"

Vastly chagrined, Artemus Gordon held out his left arm. "This one has me plumb defeated. If you wouldn't mind…?"

With a grin, James West took hold of Artie's cuff and deftly buttoned it. "Any time, little feller. Piece of cake."

"Yeah. Thanks — Mumsy dear." Artie gave a _harrumph_ to clear his throat, then hopped up and clapped his partner heartily upon the shoulder. "So! With all that out of the way, what say we go catch us some statue thieves, hmm?"

"It would be my pleasure." Jim swiftly donned his jacket, hat, and gun belt as Artie did the same. And as they headed for the rear door of their train, Artie suddenly murmured, "You, ah… aren't going to tell anybody about this, are you?"

"Me? Tell someone? Absolutely not!"

"Whew! Thanks, James! I really wouldn't want anyone to…"

"No one will ever hear about that little cuff problem from me," Jim promised.

"Oh, that's swell! Because I…"

"Well, except for Colonel Richmond, of course," Jim added as he scooted out the door.

" _What?_ Now wait a minute, Jim!" Artie sputtered.

"Oh, and President Grant too. He'll want to hear the tale for sure!"

" _Jim!"_ Artie howled, rushing after his snickering partner, as behind him the door swung firmly shut.

 **FIN**


End file.
